“You cannot shout a murmur”

“You cannot shout a murmur”, Mary Angelou

 

It was a screaming voice that yelled “whore, that’s what you are!”

For a 16 year old to hear herself described that way is devastating and shred me to pieces. It took years to put myself back together from that kind of hate. Not to worry, that person has been long forgiven; they knew nothing else. Yes, exhale, I am free of this pain. Much harder to forgive myself for believing the expression and removing it from my existence than forgiving the speaker.

 

I’ve heard loud, devastating words that crushed me and I’ve allowed it to blanket my soul. The hardest pain to bear. I’ve allowed these loud voices in too far.

 

I’m teaching myself something new…and it started a few years ago and came through soft mouths, one of the places blessings come from.

 

One of my sons said “mom you mean to tell me that you and Mark were working on trying to fix your problems for over a year and you couldn’t find a solution? You’ve spend all that time? Mom….mom…what were you thinking? That’s too long mom. That’s just too long.” Both boys looked at me with pained eyes for my experience and told me enough was enough.  They were 11 at the time.  Words spoken with gentleness filled with the offering of a soft place to rest. Words showing that I’m accepted as I flounder, waver and fall…letting me know I’m OK.

 

I want more of this…I’m craving it.

 

I want these types of words to override the loud ones. I’m learning that this is how “I love you” is spoken. I’m changing my view and looking at quiet actions, subtleties and listening to the murmurs. I want to hear what’s underneath.

 

When I thin things out like this it keeps reasoning simple. Gives me the moment to see how I should speak, what I should say and to recognize the really important words.

 

I think I suffered for so long because I lived from seeing the potential in the other.  It’s a beautiful thing to see yet if they don’t want to live from it there’s nothing I can do.  I’m recognizing the difference in language here too.  I have to be honest with the people that are around me.  I’ve noticed that sometimes the conflict may rise to a level of using words that cause a slow degeneration of each other.  The pushing away begins.

 

I used to think this was how things had to end.  I’m seeing how unnecessary this all is.  It’s possible that I could actually give grace to the other person in not witnessing them use words to that level of harm.  The toll it takes on the soul and the human in using such words toward another is tremendous.  The harm energetically ripples around the world until it makes its way back to us.  Then we have to do the painful work to clear this out of our small sphere.  A hard task to endure. 

 

I’d rather leave you with dignity than using or hearing words that tear us apart.  I’ve recognized when the time has come for some things.  A love that only the soul shares and the human may not understand.  I’m learning when silence can elevate the communication and when it can be destructive. 

 

If someone cannot speak from their own desires, not express from the gentleness that resides in their heart, live from diminished intuition, by choice or otherwise, what can we offer each other?  We have a time limit.  Such a relief to acknowledge that.

 

In truth, it’s hard to have our thoughts, words and actions line up. That’s the trick isn’t it? Life is having the courage to admit we’re incongruent and then taking steps to change. It’s also lining myself up with people of maturity, not just adults…big difference. People that are willing to say “this isn’t working let’s see what we can do to make it better and walk away if we can’t find a solution”. No finger pointing, just forgiveness and willingness. 

 

I’m not going to spend months and months of angst over something that no longer works.  Because taking part in these actions keeps us both from our potential.  I’m taking that energy out to the world.  I’m worth more than than, you are too and so is everyone I come in contact with. 

 

My expressions, my morsels, my murmurings that brush against you is hope.  I hope I can remember to offer better somethings.